


Sleeping Beauty

by Castiel_For_King



Category: Supernatural
Genre: ALL THE ANGST, Dean has a bit of a scare, M/M, Rowena's Attack Dog Spell, and finally overcomes his emotional constipation, but happy ending, picks up where season 10 ended
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-10
Updated: 2015-09-10
Packaged: 2018-04-20 01:35:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4768619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Castiel_For_King/pseuds/Castiel_For_King
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"He wouldn't die like this, Dean told himself as long fingers slipped around his neck.  Not like this - on a floor covered in Cas' blood - not after everything they'd just fucking been through."</p><p>A one-shot because the season 11 promo came out today and I got ideas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleeping Beauty

Dean scrambled to his feet, gut twisting sickeningly when another primal sound of agony clawed it's way from Castiel's throat.

His mind conjured up an unhelpful image of blood spattering on the angel's lips, splashing up from within his ruined vocal chords, and Dean cursed, scraping together the dregs of his energy, pushing aside the ache in his muscles and launching himself at the filthy demon who'd been twisting those screws deeper into Castiel's brain.

They went crashing to the floor in a tangle of limbs, knocking over a rickety table full of bloody instruments Dean chose not to look at. He struggled to get the upper hand, dodging a fist as it barreled towards his face and driving his knee into the demon's stomach. In the background of his awareness, Dean could hear the sound of Castiel struggling in the silent moments between his screams.

An elbow caught him in the ribs with inhuman force and Dean went sprawling, his lungs spasming in an attempt to replace the air that had just rushed from him; before he could roll to his feet, the demon was on him, teeth bared in an ugly snarl and eyes black pits in it's face. He wouldn't die like this, Dean told himself as long fingers slipped around his neck. Not like _this_ \- on a floor covered in Cas' blood - not after everything they'd just fucking been through.

"No!" he growled, the word struggling to get past the hands around his throat. He groped blindly at his sides, looking for something - fucking _anything_ \- to bludgeon his attacker with, but it was getting harder to think and his muscles weren't listening to him.

Castiel was screaming again and Dean felt tears of rage and frustration prickle at his eyes as he clawed at the hands crushing his windpipe with a growing sense a desperation. A window off to his right shattered into a thousand tiny pieces and the light over the spot where Cas was bound popped, showering them all with tiny shards of glass, and just when the edges of Dean's vision started to go dark, the demon went sailing through the air and the hunter sucked in an urgent lungful of oxygen. It burned like he'd swallowed acid but he forced himself to his feet, the room spinning around him, and cast around for something really fucking sharp to end this.

There was a rusted machete by his foot and Dean plucked it from the ground, swinging it with everything he had just as the enraged demon lept forward. The sound of it's head hitting the dirty floor was more than satisfying and Dean sneered down at the corpse.

The screaming had stopped, he realized, and ice cascaded into his stomach. He was scared to turn around but the sound of something small and metal hitting the concrete floor took the choice away from him and Dean was already spinning, the machete raised defensively.

He was lowering it a second later, because Sam was standing beside the chair Cas had been tied to and was gently lifting the steel ring off the angel's head, large hands shaking and face tight with worry. Sam looked up and their eyes met.

"Dean!" his little brother snapped as he tossed the torture device to the floor. "Come on, get his hands free!"

Dean suddenly remembered that he had a really big knife in his hand and he lept dazedly into action, finally allowing himself to look at the angel properly.

His stomach sank.

Castiel stared back at him, his eyes wide and feral looking. There was blood dripping down his face and his skin - normally golden and soft - was unnaturally pale. Dean focused on the ropes tied too tight around Cas' wrists, noting their silvery sheen. When he started to saw through the ropes, Castiel flinched and snarled something in a language the brothers didn't recognize. Sam and Dean both froze, sharing a glance and likely thinking the same thing.

Dean swallowed and met the angel's wild-eyed gaze. Cas was under Rowena's spell, if they cut him loose, who's to say the angel wouldn't immediately try to rip out their throats.

"Of fucking course." Dean muttered, his chest tight. Why couldn't anything ever go right for them? He looked to his brother, who had been struggling with the ropes binding Cas' other wrist but now stood frozen, brown eyes wide and sad as he looked from his friend to his brother and back again.

"What should we do?" Sam asked him, his large hand laying over the angel's forearm.

Dean looked back at Cas but the angel was no longer watching him, staring blankly ahead, eye lids fluttering like he was about to fall asleep...or pass out.

"Cas?" he called gently. He placed his hand to the side of the angel's bloody face, using his thumb to push Cas' chin up a bit, trying to meet his gaze. "Cas? Hey, can you hear me, buddy?"

No response.

 _Fuck_. What was he supposed to _do_? Untie Cas and hope he wont try to kill them?

Castiel was in nothing but his slacks and the white dress shirt and blood had trickled from his head, down his neck and soaked into the fabric, making his skin look even more pale. He looked...small. Fragile, like brittle glass, and Dean had to turn away and swallow the wave of sorrow creeping up his throat.

When he finally turned back, Sam was watching him closely, looking defeated and exhausted.

"What do I do, Cas?" Dean muttered, not really expecting and answer. Because that's what they did. They asked Cas what to do when they were lost and Cas always had an answer. He crouched in front of the angel, staring up at him, pleading. "Tell me what to do."

He nearly toppled backwards when the angel suddenly looked down at him, eyes sharp through the blood that had leaked into them.

"Kill me." Castiel whispered. His voiced sounded ragged, vocal chords ripped to shreds, and a trickle of blood spilled from the corner of his mouth.

"No." Dean swallowed bile, his hand shaking as he grabbed at Cas' thigh, squeezing hard enough to hurt. "That's not an option. Tell me what to do to _help you._ "

Castiel's lips pulled back over his bloody teeth and he snarled, tugging angrily at his bonds. " _Kill me!_ " he cried savagely.

" _No_." Dean's heart hammered against his ribs and his face felt a little wet and he couldn't look at Sam.

He started sawing at the silvery ropes again - if the angel wasn't going to tell him what to do then he was going to make his own decisions. Cas was still until Dean cut through the ties on his other arm, but as soon as he was free, the angel lunged forward, hands reaching out. The brothers lept aside, ready should they need to pin the angel, but Cas didn't even spare them a glance, instead crashing to his knees with his back to the room, grabbing something from the mariade of instruments he'd been tortured with.

"Cas?" Sam called hesitantly.

The brothers split, moving cautiously around either side of the kneeling angel until Sam suddenly cried out, "Shit! Dean hes got an angel blade!"

They both lunged for him at the same time but Dean got his hand around Castiel's wrist first, just as the angel raised the blade over his own chest.

"Cas!" he wrestled with the - thankfully weak - angel, prying the blade form his hand with Sam's help and then shoving Cas onto his back and literally sitting on his chest.

"Dean, _please_." Castiel pleaded, staring up at him, eyes wild. "Please, kill me. Make it _stop_ ," he writhed under the hunter as if in pain. " _I can't do this anymore_." he ground out. " _End it...end it.._."

Dean's misery was a physical thing, filling his stomach like cement. "No...Cas..." a shaky breath punched out of his chest and he placed his hand on the side of Cas' face, using his thumb to wipe a smear of blood from the corner of the angel's eye. He longed to see the deep, dark blue again, but in it's place was Rowena's poison. "We'll figure this out Cas, I'm not gonna let you die. Not after...not after everything." Not when he could _finally_ see the light at the end of this dirty, shitty, tunnel.

Castiel turned his face away, his expression utterly crushed.

"Sam, come on, help me get him to the car." Dean grunted, unable to deal with the fact that Castiel was fucking disappointed that Dean hadn't stabbed him in the heart.

They managed to get the weakened angel to the car and then Cas all but collapsed across the back seat and the brothers climbed into the front. The entire ride back to the bunker - all eight hours of it - was silent. Cas never stirred once and the brothers both stared straight out the windshield, lost in their own deafening thoughts. The road kept disappearing under the tires but Dean felt like it was infinite, like he was driving on a treadmill, and for the eternity it took to get them all back home, Dean couldn't stop replaying what Cas had asked him to do. Over and over.

" _Kill me...please...end it...end it_."

He glanced in the rearview mirror just as he turned onto the long gravel road leaving to the bunker.

Castiel was still out cold in the back seat, blood now dry on his skin, still pale as death and still as a corpse and for a second, Dean felt panic stab at his lungs, but he pushed it down. When angel's die they don't die quiet. The car sat idling in front of the entrance to the bunker for five full minutes before Dean found the wherewithal to kill the engine and get out. Sam followed after him and they started the task of extracting Castiel's limp form from the back seat.

Six days later, Cas still hadn't woken up.

Dean was staring and it was probably creepy and his eyes were starting to burn a little but Cas hadn't moved in days and Dean was starting to feel like he couldn't breathe.

They'd stripped the angel down and washed away most of the blood and grime, which helped Dean feed his disillusion that maybe he was healing. But, if he was honest, Cas' skin was still too pale, like there wasn't a drop of blood in his veins. Dean traced the sharp line of Castiel's stubbled jaw with his eyes and then lingered on his full lips, remembering how they used to be just a little pink, but now were nearly white.

"Wake up, Cas." he whispered for the thousandth time, trying to project his thoughts into Cas' brain by sheer will power alone.

The only consolation he had was that the small holes around Cas' forehead had healed and disappeared. That had to mean something good was going on in there, right? Maybe his grace was just trying to replenish itself a bit.

Dean sighed and leaned back in his chair. All of this could not have gone more wrong. What if he was in some kind of angel coma? What if he _never_ woke up? What if Dean would never see his stupid blue eyes again? What if he could never use pop culture references to get Cas to do that little head tilt? What if he never got to make Cas smile that tiny little smile whenever he managed to do something the angel found funny? What if the last memory Cas had of him was Dean holding his own angel blade over his chest?

Castiel's profile went blurry as Dean's eyes filled and he hastily wiped the tears away before they could fall, his throat feeling like it had closed over.

This couldn't be it. It just couldn't be. After everything Cas had beaten he was going to die on a bed with some wretched, poisonous spell leeching away his life force? Unacceptable.

Dean stood, scrubbing his eyes viciously, and grabbed the angel's bare shoulder. The skin under his hand was cold but he shook the man anyway.

"Come on, Cas, wake up." he ordered, grabbing his other shoulder and giving him another shake. "Cas!" he barked. "Get _up_!"  
  
The angel's face remained still, eyelids not so much as twitching.

"CAS!" he yelled, still hovering over the prone figure, still gripping his shoulders so tight his nails broke through Cas' skin. "WAKE THE FUCK UP! _GET UP!_ "

"Dean." Sam was suddenly at his side, his bigger hands pulling at Dean's arms, trying to pry his fingers off Castiel's shoulders. "Dean stop... _stop_."

He shook Sam off, something cold and dark and terrifying clawing it's way up his throat with every second that passed. Cas didn't move. He wasn't _going_ to move, Dean realized.

His next words were a struggle and his panic mangled them as they lept off his tongue. "Cas, _please_ , we were _so fucking close_." his breath hitched and his hands loosened on the angel's shoulders, sliding up to cup either side of his face gently. "Come back - once more, just one more time, Cas, _for me_."

Sam had backed off and was a silent, miserable throb of a presence behind him. Dean could feel the helplessness rolling off his brother in waves.

Cas' skin was so, so white under his hands.

"I need you, Cas." Dean choked, brushing away a stray curl of hair on Cas' forehead. "I need you, please, come back."

"Dean..." Sam called softly, his voice strained, but it seemed he'd forgotten what he was supposed to say.

Dean blindly grabbed Cas' hand, lacing his warm fingers with Cas' cold ones, laying his other hand over the angel's chest. "Cas," he said, trying to keep his voice steady and failing. "You fucking listen to me...you always said we have some special, profound fucking bond. You showed up in my dreams, saved my ass more times than I can count, sacrificed shit for me you should never have had to sacrifice..." he wavered here, thinking again that it couldn't end like this, it just fucking _couldn't_. He ploughed on, tripping over his words. "You said you always come when I call. Well I'm fucking calling you now, Castiel." he squeezed the angel's hand tighter. "Hear my prayer." he pleaded. "I can't do this without you." he stared down at the other man's serene face. "My angel."

Castiel's fingers twitched in his hand.

Dean sucked in a breath, bringing his other hand back up to the angel's cheek. "Cas!" he called.

"What happened?" Sam was at his side instantly, resting a hand on the blanket over Cas' thigh.

"His hand moved!" Dean gasped, sitting down on the edge of the bed and clutching the angel's hand to his chest. "Cas!" he called again, hope melting the icy panic in his gut.

Cas' fingers twitched again and Dean sobbed out a laugh. "That's it, angel, come on." he lifted their joined hands and pressed his lips to Castiel's knuckles.

The next sign of life was a tiny frown pulling at Cas' brow and then a small twitch of his head, rolling on the pillow.

Sam gasped through a delighted, watery grin, his hand rubbing at the angel's leg in an attempt to keep leading him back to the waking world.

What felt like seconds and years later, Dean felt Cas' hand squeezing back hard, like he was using it to pull himself out of the depths of wherever he'd been trapped and Dean gripped back just as hard, crushing their joined hands against his chest where Cas could probably feel his heart pounding against his ribs.

"Come on, Cas, I'm here, I'm right here, angel, open those baby blues." Then finally - _finally_ \- Cas' face rolled towards the sound of his voice and his eyes fluttered weakly.

All the breath left Dean's lungs in a woosh and he smiled through the tears blurring his vision because Cas' deep, dark, ocean water eyes were looking up at him, a little dazed but without that terrifying feral look that had been there last time. Dean felt like he might pass out.

"Dean?" Cas' eyes slid closed and he frowned again. "Where am I?"

Dean's laugh trembled and he was glad he was sitting down, the sudden undiluted _fucking joy_ shoving all the panic out of his blood was leaving him feeling light headed.

"You're home."

Cas' eyes opened again, the confusion lingering, blue eyes flicking from Dean to Sam and back again. "Home." he echoed, then his face went slack with a sudden memory. "You prayed to me." he said, sounding amazed. "I couldn't hear _anything_ but then I heard _you_." Cas swallowed, his eyes glassy. "I thought I'd be lost forever...I couldn't find my way out."

Dean didn't mentioned that he'd shared the same fear, just kissed the back of Cas' hand again. "But you did."

"Because I always come when you call." Cas said, looking a little dazed as he stared at their clasped hands.

It was then that Dean realized he'd just kissed Cas' hand like he was some kind of knight that had just roused Sleeping Beauty and heat flooded his face because, hey, talk about accurate 'cause Cas was fucking beautiful, but you don't just go around kissing your best dude-friend's hand.

He awkwardly cleared his throat but couldn't seem to get his fingers to loosen their grip.

Sam, bless his soul, slipped quietly from the room.

"I feel like I haven't seen you in years." Cas suddenly said, looking confused again. His expression turned cloudy as he seemed to stare right through the hunter. "The Mark...it's gone."

"Yeah." Dean looked away, guilt and bile rolling in his stomach. "Cas, I'm so sorry." the memory of Cas' steel bones vibrating under his fist lurched to the forefront of his mind.

"I know." replied Cas, his voice soft. "It's alright, Dean."

It was so fucking far from alright that Dean almost laughed.

"I need you too, you know." Castiel murmured shyly, his eyes flicking down and away.

Dean felt like something in his chest might rupture and he smiled, wishing he could kiss the back of Cas' hand again. Then maybe his lips and every other inch of his body, just for good measure. He wondered if Cas would let him - if maybe the angel might even enjoy it. He indulged himself, wondering what it might be like if Cas felt the same way he did. Is that just something you could straight up ask? Probably not.

He cleared his throat and looked away awkwardly, a blush heating his cheeks and Cas' hand still crushed to his chest.

"Dean."

He looked back around, meeting the angel's eye, ready to shove all those feelings back down around his toes where they belonged. He was confused when he realized Cas looked a little pissed.

"Are you going to kiss me or not?" the angel asked bluntly.

Dean blinked, his mouth dropping open as Cas struggled up to a sitting position, squeezing Dean's hand a little hard.

"I just came back from the edge of an indescribably dark abyss for you, surely -"

Dean leaned forward and grabbed the back of Cas' head, pressing their mouths together with a desperate sense of urgency that he became aware of only a few millimeters away from the angel's lips. He tangled his finger's in the soft, dark hair and swallowed the little whimper that trickled from Cas' throat and niped at those soft, plush lips until he felt light headed.

When he pulled back, he was glad to see that Cas looked just as dazed as Dean felt and the hunter grinned, resting his forehead against Cas' while they caught their breath.

He looked down, eyes flicking this way and that over Castiel's bare torso. His skin was back to it's tan, vibrant self and his blue eyes sparkled in the dim light of the bedroom and Dean felt fucking giddy. He placed one last chaste kiss to Cas' mouth, whispering against his lips.

"My angel."

Cas' smile was gentle and soft against Dean lips when he whispered back. "Always."

**Author's Note:**

> This turned out to be a lot more angsty and about 1500 words longer than I intended. As always, please let me know if you liked it.


End file.
